


Where Were We

by chorus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chorus/pseuds/chorus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A broken lamp brings anger, passion and annoying visitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Were We

CRASH! Stiles squealed, jumped back, dropped the vacuum hose and stared at the shards of broken lamp all over the table, the rug, and who knows where else. He sincerely hoped that-

“STILES!” bellowed Derek, who had materialized in the doorway, his lean, muscular body in shadow from the sunlight. “That's the second thing you've broken this week! How the hell do you plan to make this house a home again, if you keep wrecking it?” Derek moved closer, revealing his sweaty chest below his flashing eyes. “It was your idea to rebuild this place, make it a home for the pack, but while I've been busting my butt rebuilding, you're breaking everything in sight!”

“Not everything,” Stiles quipped, a tremor running through his body. “There's still plenty of lamps-” Derek shot him one of his famous don't-even-go-there looks. “Maybe not so many.”

Derek advanced on Stiles, his shoe grinding one of the ceramic shards into the rug. Stiles squeaked and took a step backward, but unfortunately, there was a wall behind him, he had nowhere to go. Derek took another step, now they were just inches apart. His wide eyes locked into Derek's angry ones, Stiles could feel the heat radiating from Derek's body, smell the sweat. It mingled with a musky smell, that part-man-part-wolf smell that was all Derek. Something stirred deep inside of Stiles.

“Do you know what I'm going to do?” growled Derek, not taking his eyes off the two globes of fear on Stiles' face. Stiles moved his mouth but no sound came out. Derek growled again. “Something I've wanted to do for a long time!” Before Stiles could even begin to comprehend, Derek grabbed him, fell back on the couch and flipped him over.

“Seriously?” Stiles asked, not believing what was happening. He tried to squirm free. “Really?” Derek grabbed Stiles' arm, pinned him down, and growled again. “You can't – OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!” he screamed, because Derek was pelting his butt with rapid blows. Stiles was shocked. Derek had threatened him in the past, to hurt him, or worse, but he'd gotten to the point of no longer paying attention because Derek had never hurt him. Until now. Derek was spanking him. And it hurt. “Dammit! Yeah, right, Okay!” he screamed. The blows stopped, and all Stiles could hear was Derek's heavy breathing. He tried to get up, but the Alpha still had him pinned.

“Maybe now you'll learn to be more careful!” Derek growled.

“Something like that,” quipped Stiles. “OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!” Derek was spanking him again. “I will! I will!” he shouted. Derek stopped spanking and unpinned his arm. He pulled Stiles up so they were face to face.

“It's frustrating, it really is,” Derek started. “Trying to create a strong wolf pack, having to teach and train. Figuring out which enemy is trying to kill us today, and how to stop them. Your idea of a pack home is a good one, but trying to rebuild a burned house on top of everything else just gets to be a bit much sometimes. Then you go and break things!”

Stiles, whose eyes were watery but not tearful, locked eyes with Derek, where he saw frustration, anger and fear. Wow, it's really hard, he thought. Derek had been born a werewolf, and had become the pack Alpha by killing the previous Alpha, who, by the way, really deserved it. He then created three more werewolves who were high school students, and while they were good choices, they didn't have a clue. Then there was Scott, who happened to be Stiles' best friend. Scott had been made a werewolf by the previous Alpha, and was also an Alpha. Scott and Derek had what could best be called an uneasy truce, because they didn't really trust each other, but more often than not worked together.

That's how Stiles had met, and gotten to know, Derek. Stiles wasn't a werewolf, but being best friends with Scott had gotten him involved in a lot of werewolf-y things. At first Derek had sneered at him, but after he'd saved Derek's life once, and then soon after Derek had returned the favor, they had reached an unspoken understanding. Now, staring into Derek's eyes, Stiles began to understand some of the pressure that Derek must live under, day after day. Despite his burning butt, he felt a pang of remorse. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you,” Derek whispered back.

“It's Okay.”

“It's not O-” Derek couldn't say another word because of the liplock Stiles now had him in. The warmth of Stiles' lips and the passion behind them quickly ignited Derek's libido, he pressed his own lips hard into Stiles' mouth and wrapped his arms around him. Stiles folded his arms around Derek's neck. Derek parted his lips and his tongue nudged against Stiles' lips, which ever so slowly started to open.

“STILES!” bellowed Scott, who had materialized in the doorway. Clearly shocked, Scott's eyes targeted Derek. “What the HELL have you done?” He morphed to wolf as he advanced toward the two men, who tried to get up. This involved Stiles twisting while Derek was rising, the result being Stiles flipped over the back of the couch. A weak “I'm OK” drifted up from the floor. By this time Scott had moved just in front of Derek, hostility radiating from his every pore. “I told you not to mess with my friends,” he growled at Derek, while Stiles awkwardly climbed back over the couch. Derek said nothing.

“Scott, I kissed Derek,” said Stiles, wedging himself between the two men, his back pressing against Derek's chest.

“You kissed Derek?” Scott shook his head. “Why?”

“I'm passionate.” Derek almost smiled.

“Scott, just be cool with it, OK?” Stiles said.

Scott, morphing back to human, shook his head again, whether from confusion, disgust or resignation, Stiles wasn't sure. Without another word, he spun on his heels and ran off.

Stiles flowed back into Derek's arms. “Where were we?” he murmured.

“Hmmm,” teased Derek. “Were we there?” He kissed Stiles' cheek. “There?” He licked his ear. “There?” A quick kiss on the neck. Stiles giggled. “Ah! There!” Derek pressed his lips against Stiles' eager ones. His hand's found their way under Stiles' t-shirt, worked their way up past his abs until they found his nipples, where each thumb in turn flicked one. Stiles groaned and dug his fingers into the small of Derek's back, encouraging Derek to grind his crotch into Stiles. Which Derek did. With enthusiasm.

Both men were panting heavily, sweating with desire. Derek nibbled on Stiles' neck, his thumbs now swirling around Stiles' nipples. Stiles licked Derek's ear while his hands worked feverishly, touching as much skin as they could. Then they moved down to his crotch.

Stiles pulled away. “I want you now!” he moaned, reaching for Derek's belt. Derek arched his hips so Stiles could undo his belt. In no time Stiles had it undone and was reaching for his jeans. Derek grabbed the ripcord on Stiles' shorts and gave it a tug.

“STILES!” bellowed Sheriff Stilinski, who had materialized in the doorway. Derek pulled away and grabbed his pants, while Stiles grabbed his shorts to keep them from falling to his knees. The sheriff walked leisurely to the middle of the room. “Maybe I should be upset. Maybe I should be surprised. But I ran into Scott, and he told me.” Stiles' father sat down. “You're old enough, son, so I only have one question: do you have condoms?”

Derek and Stiles, now safely buttoned, stared at the man. “Dad!” Stiles squeaked. He cleared his throat. “Dad, I've had a condom in my wallet since I was fourteen!”

“And it probably hasn't been changed since.” Sheriff Stilinski was trying to look stern, but his eyes were twinkling. Stiles huffed. “Here,” Stiles' dad tossed a three-pack of condoms to his son, who blushed as he caught them. Standing up, the sheriff looked around. “Good work you're doing here, Derek,” he said. Then he smiled. “Though I would probably put a new door on, soon.”

Derek and Stiles watched Sheriff Stilinski leave. “That was awkward.”

“Not anymore,” Stiles teased, running his finger down Derek's cheek. Derek kissed Stiles while his hands grabbed Stiles' butt and kneaded it. Deftly, Stiles undid Derek's belt and jeans, yanking them down with one swift tug. He then made short work of the black mini-boxers. Derek was definitely read to go! Stiles slid down.

Derek threw back his head and howled at the pleasure he now felt. Stiles was a bit clumsy, but the pleasure he was giving washed through Derek like warm ocean waves. Stiles fell into a rhythm, moving his head back and forth, and it wasn't long before Derek felt a volcano building. He grabbed Stiles' head but it was too late: the volcano erupted, almost gagging Stiles. For the first time in years, Derek's knees felt weak, and he had to steady himself. He leaned against the wall, panting heavily, sweat streaming down his chest and abs. Stiles slid back up, a huge grin on his face, which was spattered with the last of the volcanic eruption. Derek kissed him, tasting himself on Stiles' lips.

They pressed their foreheads together, each sharing in the other's ecstasy, one sated, one spent. “Wow,” Stiles whispered, and Derek whispered the same word back to him. Stiles reached up and twined his fingers through Derek's. Gradually Derek's breathing slowed, and Stiles reached down. Derek was ready to go again. Stiles reached for a condom, but suddenly Derek seemed hesitant. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Stiles looked up into those wolfish eyes. “Remember when I saved your life?” Derek nodded. “Think about it.” Derek's eyes widened with realization. “Yeah,” said Stiles, his voice husky. In one swift movement his shorts and briefs were down to his knees. He spit in his hand, reached back and smeared it around. “Now!” Stiles whispered urgently, leaning against the wall.

Derek, his eyes blazing, ripped the condom open with his teeth, and quickly rolled it on. He moved up to Stiles and found his target. He kissed Stiles' neck while gently flexing his hips. He paused when he heard a sharp gasp, but a quick nod told him to continue. It was like putting on a fitted, warm glove. When he was complete, he paused. Stiles was breathing deeply, and the breaths changed from adjustment to acceptance. “Yes, yes!” Stiles moaned, slapping his hand against the wall. Derek started rocking gently and the moans got louder. Derek growled and put his arm around Stiles' chest. He increased his pace, while his free hand reached around and grabbed, the pace in front matching the pace in back.

Stiles leaned his head back on Derek's shoulder, Derek turned his head to face him. They kissed, a deep, longing kiss that completed their union. Stile's breathing grew shallow and rapid, and with a loud “Ohhhhhhhh!” he sprayed the wall. This was too much for Derek, who thrust forward violently, howled, and flooded the condom. He was trembling as he put his other arm around Stiles and pulled him tight. They collapsed against the wall, panting.

Derek kissed Stiles about neck and shoulders. Stiles reached up and folded his arms around Derek's, leaned his head back and kissed him. As their panting subsided, Derek slowly eased out of Stiles, until with a soft popping noise he came free. Stiles turned around, and putting his hands on Derek's face, kissed him again.

“Guess we should get back to work,” Derek said. Stiles grunted. It took a while for them to get dressed, Stiles was a bit sore and Derek kept kissing him. Derek reluctantly eased his way toward the door.

“Hey,” said Stiles. “Can we do this again, all of it?”

“What do you mean, all of it?”

Stiles grinned. “I guess I could break another lamp.”


End file.
